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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25906789">Eyes of the Machine</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jacrispybensolo/pseuds/Jacrispybensolo'>Jacrispybensolo</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Supernova and the Machine [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: Rebellion Era - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Darth Vader Needs a Hug, Darth Vader Redemption, F/M, Mental Health Issues, POV Darth Vader, Padmé Amidala Lives, Protective Darth Vader, Self-Hatred</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-05-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 02:01:14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>9,261</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25906789</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jacrispybensolo/pseuds/Jacrispybensolo</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Set two years after an ROTS where Padme survived and went into hiding, but is eventually taken into custody by the Empire, where she is seen by Darth Vader.</p><p>Vader POV from my other work, Supernova and the Machine.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker, Padmé Amidala/Darth Vader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Supernova and the Machine [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1880122</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>44</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>124</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I think this chapter could make sense if you haven't read Supernova and the Machine (there might be a lot of context missed though), but subsequent chapters will not.</p><p>I couldn't get the thought of a Vader POV out of my head, so I wrote one. I don't know if I'll do many more of these, or which scenes I'll do, but I'll probably do a few more. Thanks to everyone who's read Supernova and the Machine and were so kind that it encouraged me to do this one! It means the world to me.</p><p>As usual, please mind the tags - there is a lot of self-loathing in this one, and once again, Padme is his prisoner, and neither of them seem to mind it too much. The narrative will never make a judgment of this situation. And this probably goes without saying, but Vader kills a lot of people and doesn't really feel bad about it.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The galaxy feared Darth Vader. And even more than the man himself, they feared his  mask. </p><p>It had been two short years since the fall of the Republic, and he wasn’t known all the way across the galaxy yet - but there were whispers. Hushed voices warning potential uprisings of <em> the Emperor’s mad dog. </em> They thought him a rabid dog, but he was something much more sinister. Even a rabid dog can be leashed. Him, though? Darth Vader?</p><p>Darth Vader would be set upon the galaxy. The constant reminder that they were always watched, that they were never safe. The rage that brewed in his black hole heart would be felt by all, until his fire tempered.</p><p>The mask helped with this. He resented it at first. He wanted nothing more than to seek revenge on his Master for entombing him in this shrine to death, for building new legs to walk for him, invading his half-burned out organs and fashioning new lungs. For not letting him die.</p><p>But now Vader was a more seasoned Sith Lord; older, wiser, more experienced. He did die on that field of lava, and the bits of him that weren’t burned off were simply turned to stone, and he became what he was always meant to be: a vessel of power. A vessel of power that would cow the galaxy into submission. The black mask kept them cowed.</p><p>In his few moments of solitude, the few moments he’s truly alone, he would remove the mask. And those were the times when he knew that the mask was a mercy.</p><p>For what lies beneath... The yellow eyes, somehow both cold and burning, like the lava that killed Anakin Skywalker, like the calm before a storm that could wipe them all out with a thought. The galaxy wasn’t ready for the eyes of Vader.</p><p>While he sat in his compressed meditation chamber, he stared in his own reflection. The charred skin, the lipless face, the eyelids nearly burned off so the yellow sharpened. The hate cut deeper when he looked in his reflection and when he disconnected from his life support, the pain of a thousand flames licked at his skin and the hatred was so apparent, the dark side was so strong, that he reveled in it.</p><p>The galaxy thinks it’s afraid of the black mask of Vader, because it hasn’t seen what lies beneath.The mask is their only fence, their layer of protection. When the mask comes off...</p><p>When the mask comes off, he feels ready to take on his Master. To snuff out the entire galaxy until nothing is left but his black hatred and misery, his furnace of power. He would never kneel again, he would never utter the word <em> Master, </em> for he would be the only power in the galaxy worthy of mastery.</p><p>It might have brought a smile to his scarred face.</p><p>Darth Vader did not smile.</p><p>Instead he closed his eyes and connected deeper into the Force. He could feel the cold black of his compression chamber. He could feel the helmet that hovered above him and every bit of wiring in the cybernetic limbs. The black expanse of space opened before him, and he could feel the ship that surrounded him. He could feel the throat of every insignificant <em> imbecile </em> that was on board and with the knowledge that he could destroy them all, he let out a breath of relief. Relief that was interrupted right as two of those insignificant necks dared approach his chamber.</p><p>Low-ranking officers, whose names he hadn’t bothered to learn. They dared approach him? In his compression chamber?</p><p>It was clear which lives would have to be snuffed out first.</p><p>“Can he hear us in there?”</p><p>“I don’t know.”</p><p>“Well should we... knock?”</p><p>“That might make him mad.”</p><p><em> Fools. </em> Everyday he was surrounded by <em> raging fools </em>. </p><p>As they continued their pathetic whisperings, the helmet slowly lowered over his head, and the last thing Vader saw with his own eyes was the sharp yellow shining back at him.</p><p>With his mask securely in place, Vader allowed the compression chamber to open.</p><p>When the fools saw his fully formed facade, their pulses sped up and Vader could feel the sweat trickle at their heads. One of them had a hand that shook, though he tried to hide it behind his back, but Vader could feel every tick, he <em> was </em> every movement of the wrist.</p><p>And because he was a merciful man, he didn’t snap that wrist with only a thought.</p><p>He greeted them with a modulated breath, drinking in their elevated fear.</p><p>The fear <em> always </em> heightened when he breathed. It was one of his few joys in life. Simple breath could release such a reaction from the cowardly.</p><p>“Lord Vader,” Shaky wrist bowed slightly at the waist, not taking his eyes off the monstrosity in front of him. “We have news of the rebel from Daltarra.”</p><p><em> Bail Organa </em>. The name had filled him with such seething rage that he demanded his ship be brought to the prison at once. After their arrival, he would delight in torturing the senator from Alderaan with his newly built torture droid - designed by himself, with the highest capacity for pain ever imagined. </p><p>Well, ever imagined by the likes of Bail Organa. Vader had a feeling that there wasn’t enough technology in the galaxy to replicate the depths of pain <em> he </em> was capable of dreaming up.</p><p>“The news better be that you’ve found a way to cur future rebellions.”</p><p>The imbeciles exchanged a look.</p><p>“Not quite, my Lord.”</p><p>Vader allowed his breath to do the talking as he waited for further explanation.</p><p>“The rebel...” Shaky wrist’s shake extended to his entire arm and infected his voice. “The rebel has escaped.”</p><p>The seething rage exploded, and Vader’s hand reached out to crush the insignificant throat, and the power of his fury pushed back the other imbecile.</p><p>“<em> How </em> could the rebel escape when he was locked behind a ray shield?” Vader did not raise his voice because he did not need to; the low cadence was more menacing than any yell, and the throat was fragile under his touch. Fragility, he had no time for. He slowly moved his thumb and forefinger closer together and felt the throat close up.</p><p>“The rebel had assistance, my lord,” the pathetic throat eked out, while the other officer looked from Vader back to his comrade, like he was desperate to not be next. </p><p>“Assistance from who?” </p><p>“A girl.” The voice was so strained it was pathetic. One lost breath away from death.</p><p>Vader finished the job and the insignificant throat attached to an insignificant man fell to the floor in an insignificant heap. If the other officer felt disgusted or scared, he made no show of it, only stood taller and didn’t break Vader’s eye contact.</p><p>“The girl has been taken into custody, but the rebel got away. We are one standard hour from reaching the prison ship, but they have sent over the security footage for your review.”</p><p>“Very well.” Vader stalked off and used the Force to billow his cape behind him. He gestured to the heap on the floor. “Call a trooper to clean this up.”</p><p>“Yes, my Lord.”</p>
<hr/><p>The commanding officer stood at the bridge, flanked by a squad of stormtroopers, all of whom moved out of the way in formation at the sight of Vader’s arrival.</p><p>“My Lord,” the Commander greeted with a terse nod of the head. “I assume my men filled you in.”</p><p>“They did, Commander.” Vader lingered a few steps away from the officer and observed him with a tilt of his head. The man had no fear in his heart, only a cool arrogance that made him believe he had any power on the bridge. If Vader had a throat, he’d laugh. “What they didn’t tell me is why you sent two low-ranking officers to my private quarters and up to my meditation chamber.”</p><p>The troopers dispersed, which was the smartest thing anyone had done that day. </p><p>The Commander cleared his throat, and stood to his full height. “I meant no offense, my Lord. I’ve been in briefing with the prison ship since we received the news of the rebel’s escape, otherwise I would have brought you the news myself.”</p><p>“That rebel was for <em> me </em> to deal with, and you didn’t think to call me in for the briefing?”</p><p>The Commander’s throat bobbed and his eyes wavered only slightly. A lesser man might not have noticed, but Vader felt every movement in the Force, every small doubt.</p><p>And the Commander before him was finally coming to terms with his own insignificance.</p><p>“My deepest apologies, my Lord. The error will not happen again.”</p><p>“You’re right. It won’t.”</p><p>Vader gestured to the console before them. “What of this escape? Who is this girl?”</p><p>“I haven’t gotten a name, but we do have footage of the escape. Footage that I found rather interesting.”</p><p>As if his opinion was at all relevant.</p><p>The Commander pressed a button on the console and a hologram fizzled to life before them.</p><p>“It seems she got onto the ship with few problems, which I’m sure you’ll want to take up with the commanding officer on board.” The Commander narrated the scene, as if Vader didn’t have his own eyes. He watched as the woman boarded the ship with little to no issue. Her face was obscured, but she was small and slight with long dark hair pulled back, and wore a beige battle tunic, pants, and long boots. </p><p>Vader studied the way the girl ran, the way she moved, the way she held her blaster in her hands, the way the holster rested on her hip. Even through the transmission, something about her felt...</p><p>“Is there another angle? I’d like to see her face.”</p><p>“This is where it gets interesting.” The Commander smirked at Vader, and it took all of the willpower in his body to not smack the man across the ship.</p><p>“Get on with it then!”</p><p>The image twisted, and the entire ship stopped around him. He could no longer feel the pulse of every creature on board, he couldn’t feel the deep expanse of space, he couldn’t even hear his own breath or feel his own scarred pain raking throughout his body. Everything stopped, and all that existed in the world was Vader’s eyes, and the image in front of him.</p><p>“What is this,” He didn’t even mean to speak, but the words came out as a harsh and raw whisper, like the plea of a desperate man, like a man who wanted to cry out but was barricaded by a mouthpiece that breathed for him. </p><p>“Lord Vader, I don’t know how long you’ve been in the Emperor’s service, but this looks oddly like a Senator who’s been believed dead since the fall of the Republic. Have you ever heard of Padme Ami-”</p><p>Vader cut the man’s off at his throat, wouldn’t allow such an unworthy <em> animal </em> to let that name cross his lips, would rather kill him than hear it. </p><p>The Commander clawed at the invisible hand around his throat, and his eyes pleaded, all his former arrogance forgotten. </p><p>“Lord Va-”</p><p>“Who else on this ship has seen this footage, Commander?”</p><p>“Just... me.” Each word was strained as the Commander fought to hold onto his pathetic life.</p><p>“Well, that makes my job easy.”</p><p>With barely a thought, the Commander fell to the floor. Vader took the pad which held the hologram from the prison ship, and placed it securely on his own belt. </p><p>His eyes slinked around the ship, and all officers and troopers kept their eyes trained away from the scene, pretending they hadn’t seen or heard anything. Just the way Vader preferred his troops - out of the way.</p><p>He went back down the bridge, and passed the man from before - the live one who came to his private quarters. Vader gestured to the dead officer behind him.</p><p>“Congratulations, Commander. Hopefully you’ll possess the wisdom your predecessor lacked.”</p><p>The man stood at attention. “Yes, my Lord.”</p><p>“I wish to be notified the <em> moment </em> we arrive at our destination, and I do mean that very moment.”</p><p>“Understood, my Lord. I will notify you myself.”</p><p>“Good. You just may survive the week.”</p><p>The Commander gulped and nodded, before being dismissed.</p>
<hr/><p>Vader paced the perimeter of his quarters, too enraged to meditate, too shaken to sit. </p><p>Someone was attempting trickery.</p><p>Someone wanted to catch him in a trap - someone who knew about Anakin Skywalker, and thought they could lure him into their web. And they dared to use <em> her. </em></p><p>The way in which Vader killed them would not be common. No, his method of killing whoever was responsible, whoever had the absolute <em> gall </em> to recreate her face and put it up on a screen, would be killed in such a gruesome and disturbing way that it wouldn’t be recorded in Imperial records. It would be so completely sickening that the Emperor himself would look away.</p><p>And Vader would thrill in every scream, in every cry for help as he denied the sweet release of death. No, the person responsible would not die <em> today. </em> No, this would be his little pet project. Something to take care of in his off-time. A hobby. Even a Sith Lord needs to take up a hobby.</p><p>And finally, when he was bored with the whimpers and pleas, Vader would end their pathetic existence.</p><p><em> That </em> was the cost of goading him by using her image. </p><p>When all was said and done, Vader would have to ask them if it was worth it.</p><p>For a brief moment, he wondered if his Master was behind it. The only person in the galaxy who definitely knew about Anakin and his marriage was the Emperor. And it was not beneath him; no, the Emperor delighted in tests, the crueler, the more efficient. It was only a matter of time before he used that image - the image of <em> her </em> - against him.</p><p>Vader’s hatred ran so deep that it was practically its own entity, something he carried around with him, something to add weight to the bulk of his suit. And if his Master was behind this - if his Master so dared - he would take that weight and throw it all at him. Wrap him in it, and maybe for one glorious moment before death, Emperor Palpatine would feel one second of the anguish that Vader felt every moment of his existence.</p><p>His comm sounded. </p><p>“Lord Vader,” The new Commander filled his role with easy assurance, but deference when speaking to his betters. “We are approaching our destination. Drop out of hyperspace in one minute.”</p><p>“Ensure my shuttle is prepared. I will be boarding the prison ship <em> alone. </em>I will stand for no delays, Commander.”</p><p>“Understood, my Lord.”</p>
<hr/><p>The air in the prison hangar held a kind of suspense to it, like the entire ship was waiting with anticipation, like every trooper and prisoner knew he was there.</p><p>If they were lucky, they didn’t know <em> why </em> he was there.</p><p>A man that Vader did not recognize approached, wearing a suit bedecked in the ranking of an Imperial Admiral. When the man saw him, he and his cadre of troopers came to full attention with a salute.</p><p>“Lord Vader.” the Admiral cleared his throat. “We were not expecting you.”</p><p>“My Commander was instructed to not tell you. I wished to see the internal workings of a ship that allowed it’s rebel prisoner to escape with ease.”</p><p>He swallowed. “My Lord, we were not expecting an escape attempt. The prisoner was quite demoralized, and as you’ll see when you review the tapes, he was clearly not expecting the rescue.”</p><p>“I will be the judge of your failure, Admiral.”</p><p>“Very well, my Lord.” The Admiral stood at his full height, and accepted the appraisal of his betters easily and without argument. </p><p>That almost made it more difficult.</p><p>“The tapes were already sent to my command ship and I reviewed them. Tell me Admiral, did you send those tapes to anyone else?”</p><p>He dragged out his voice, picking every pitch and incantation with exact precision, and though the Admiral had the good fortune to not see Vader’s eyes, they pierced him as he touched on the man’s mind through the Force. </p><p>Jedi liked to trust that those they questioned were being honest - an utter waste of time, when they could simply tap on a lesser being's mind and know the truth.</p><p>“No, sir. I sent them only to you, and awaited further command.”</p><p>Nothing in his mind indicated deceit.</p><p>Vader truly wished there was another way.</p><p>“Very well. And who on this ship has seen the tapes? And witnessed the rescue firsthand?”</p><p>“Just myself, these troopers, and the troopers guarding the prisoner.”</p><p>Another honest statement.</p><p>He took little joy in what he had to do.</p><p>“Very well, Admiral.”</p><p>With one motion, he pulled the blasters out of the troopers hands and kept his invisible fingers around the Admiral’s throat. The troopers attempted to run, and Vader pulled them back with his other hand, all the while concentrating on squeezing the life out of this Admiral.</p><p>Before the life left his eyes, Vader said, “Thank you for your loyal service to the Galactic Empire.”</p><p>He took care of the troopers with only a few moments and a couple slashes of his lightsaber.</p><p>Stepping over the fallen troopers, Vader continued down the corridor.</p><p>He kept his mind open, yet alert. Kept himself connected to the Force at all times, let it flow to his own whim, aware of all senses - </p><p>The smell. The soft and sweet floral scent, the smell that died two years earlier. The very act of smelling was something he thought had died, lost to him on the raging fires of Mustafar. Warmth spread through his suit and up his arms, down his legs that weren’t his, in the chest that had a pack strapped to it. Her presence.</p><p>He quickened his pace, following the sweet warmth, and came across the one cell in the entire ship that was guarded by two stormtroopers. </p><p>“Lord Vader,” The trooper acknowledged, and pressed for the shield to come down. “The prisoner hasn’t spoken since we took her into custody.”</p><p>Vader did not go into the cell. Instead he peered in, and saw the lanky brown hair hanging around a pale, emotionless face with sunken eyes.</p><p>“Did you apprehend the prisoner yourself, trooper?”</p><p>“No, sir.”</p><p>“Find the man who did, and bring him here.”</p><p>“Yes, sir.”</p><p>The trooper took off down the corridor, and Vader turned his back on the other. His cape swirled around him, and he crossed into the cell.</p><p>She didn’t move at the sight of him - it was almost as if she didn’t notice him at all.</p><p>The prisoner, the stoic prisoner, certainly looked like Padme. Her hair and eyes were the same color, she had the same nose, the same lips. Her shoulders curved at the same angle and her fingers were the same length. The same face that kept him awake, that haunted in his shadows, sat right before him.</p><p>But the fire was gone. The internal spirit that made Padme herself. The warmth in her eyes, and the fire in her voice - gone. </p><p>“Who are you?” He asked, and hated every raspy syllable that came out of his helmet, wished he could shove every harsh word back into his mouth, and for the first time wished that the suit would stop breathing for him.</p><p>She didn’t even spare him a look.</p><p>“Who sent you? Was it the Emperor?”</p><p>Again, no response, only the gentle rise and fall of her shoulders as she took a breath.</p><p>Vader looked around the room and his eyes fell on a camera in the corner. Standard procedure for an Imperial prison. He brandished his lightsaber, despising the deep crimson, and took the recorder down with one slash before returning it to his belt.</p><p>When he turned back she had finally looked, her shoulders no longer moving but stricken in the air as she watched him.</p><p>When she flicked her eyes up at him, every nuance and mannerism of his wife came back and filled his chest near to bursting. He backed into the corner and held out an arm, like he wanted to touch her but was afraid it was an apparition, some cruel trick being played on him, and if he touched, she would fade.</p><p>Like she always did in his dreams.</p><p>She tilted her head at him, and he did all he could to stifle his scratching breath. He closed his eyes and touched the Force that flowed through her.</p><p>And buried underneath years of pain, unimaginable loss, and the heavy weight of survival, he felt it. One tiny spark of the fire that was once his wife. Fire that burned, and fire that warmed.</p><p>She...</p><p>She survived.</p><p>He <em> knew </em> she survived; while his skin burned to ash right off his bones, while he was being fitted with a new body, while a pack was being strapped to his chest to keep him alive, Darth Vader <em> felt </em> it. That fire, that sense of his wife.</p><p>And his Master told him that she died. That <em> he </em> killed her. </p><p>He knew it was impossible, but he allowed that disgusting old man to tell him anyway.</p><p>“Pa-” Right as he went to say her name, he stopped himself. Not now; not with those troopers watching. Not with a voice like his.</p><p>Not ever. He clenched his fingers, his fingers made of metal and wire, and he felt his legs that weren’t his, and he remembered that mask, the mask that struck fear into the heart of the galaxy. The bulk on his chest that breathed for him, that created the sound that emitted from his mouth. His <em> voice </em>, his awful voice that would only serve to scare her.</p><p>She could never know. </p><p>“Lord Vader,” A trooper stood at the threshold. “You wanted to see me?”</p><p>Padme now stared up at him questioningly, and he averted his eyes. She didn’t want to see him, see that mask, see everything that was frightening in the galaxy.</p><p>He stepped out into the hallway, using every once of power in his body to not look back into the cell. </p><p>“Did this prisoner tell you anything?”</p><p>“Yes, sir. She says her name is Naberrie Walker. The name isn’t on any official Imperial records, she has no ID chip, and when questioned about Bail Organa, she refused to answer. Her facial ID matches that of a Republic Senator who died on Empire Day.”</p><p>She had been hiding for two years. He didn’t want to <em> think </em> of the places she’d been forced to live, the food she had to eat, how she would have struggled to survive. </p><p>No longer.</p><p>“And trooper, you are the one who apprehended her?”</p><p>“Yes, Lord Vader.” The trooper had the gall to look proud of himself as he stood taller. “She evaded every other trooper.”</p><p>“I see.”</p><p>Vader held his saber out, and with a simple flick of a switch, the trooper fell.</p><p>The other two didn’t take more than three swings of his blade.</p><p>He came back to the cell and Padme was standing, the chair turned over at her feet, and she looked at him like he was the dirt on her boots. The way she would look at the likes of Nute Gunray or Count Dooku. That’s not how she looked at <em> him. </em></p><p>Vader took a controlled breath. The effort to keep it under control took nearly all of his energy, and that was something he didn’t want to expend. Every step he took closer, she took another step back or to the side, like she planned to dodge out of his grasp.</p><p>“Fighting is useless.” He meant it to be comforting, but with that voice it came out like a raw and harsh command. </p><p>“Get away from me.”</p><p>The first words his wife spoke to him in two years. <em> Get away from me. </em> She was disgusted and frightened, and she had every right.</p><p>Padme moved around him again, and he reached out a hand to graze her shoulder. The touch of her, even on his fake hands... He no longer had to fight to repress his breath, because it was taken right out of him at her touch.</p><p>“Don’t you <em> dare-” </em></p><p>“I’m sorry.” He cut her off, and with two fingers gently pressed on her neck, her eyes closed. Before she could tumble to the floor, Vader picked her up with one arm under her knees and the other cradling her back and neck. </p><p>He carried her out into the hallway, stepped over the troopers, made a stop at the control center, leaving behind destroyed security tapes and another dead trooper, and continued onto his shuttle.</p><p>Once they were securely inside with the doors closed, he put Padme into the passenger’s seat, fastened her buckle, and moved a small lock of hair that had fallen in her eyes, and tucked it behind her ear. And for a single moment, they were back to themselves. They were married again, and the past two years never happened. It was just Padme and - </p><p>“Lord Vader?” </p><p>His fantasy was cruelly stolen with the sound of his Commander’s voice.</p><p>If he had any intention of returning to his ship, he would have had to appoint another new Commander, as punishment for the interruption. </p><p>“Yes?”</p><p>“I got readings from your shuttle. Are you returning to the ship?”</p><p>“No, Commander. I have business of my own to attend.”</p><p>The Commander paused and cleared his throat. “Very well. Did you question the prisoner? Are we to capture Bail Organa again?”</p><p>The familiar comfort of fury came roaring back. “Commander, if you value your life at all, you will never mention this prison visit again. To anyone”</p><p>The answer came back instantly.</p><p>“Understood, my Lord.”</p><p>“I’m sure you do.” He disconnected the comm without any ceremony or salutations.</p><p>Vader knew that officers, especially Imperial officers, were not to be trusted. They could only be trusted so long as they were afraid, and if he stayed away too long, the Commander would be significantly less afraid.</p><p>But he couldn’t leave her. Not again.</p><p>He punched in the coordinates for his home planet, and reached up a hand to touch her again, but stopped himself when he saw the peace on her face. The lack of worry.</p><p>Waking her up to see his mask would steal that peace.</p><p>His comm came alive, and he put in a call to the castle.</p><p>“Dark Lord!” B2, his eccentric server droid, sounded genuinely pleased to hear from him. Truly a strange machine. “Are you coming back to the castle?”</p><p>“Yes, B2. I would like a room arranged, and inform SP2LA that he will need to prepare a menu. We have a... visitor.” </p><p>“A visitor, Lord Vader?” B2 had the unique droid ability to sound puzzled. “Do you want a cell for this visitor?”</p><p>“NO!” He roared, taking his tone down a level when he looked at the resting Padme. “A normal room would be fine.”</p><p>For the first time in two years, he allowed himself to really think of Padme. The woman who fought battle droids on Geonosis, who tried to stay in the capital while there was an active assassination attempt on her, the one who went to Onderon to dine with Separatists, who boarded General Grievous’s ship.</p><p>“Maybe a room that locks from the outside.” He amended.</p><p>“Understood, Lord Vader. Glad to see you coming home.”</p><p>
  <em> Home. </em>
</p><p>The stars blurred into hyperspace lines, and he looked at her again.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Plot? Action? No, today all I have to offer you is pain and angst.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Shards of broken glass littered the medcenter of Fortress Vader. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The very last mirror left in the castle lay shattered at Darth Vader’s feet. Bit’s of wiring sparked out of his hand, but he only slipped the glove over it, savoring every screaming nerve. The pain didn’t hurt anymore. It only served to marinate him in his anger, to remind him of his hatred. He could have called on the Force to shatter the mirror, could have used the Force as his plaything that bends to his every whim.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But no feeling in the galaxy was quite the same as destroying something with your own hands. Feeling it break beneath you. The glass of this mirror cracked with one blow from his closed fist, spider webbing into a million different pieces and cascading down like a crystal waterfall. It was the only thrill he’d had in months.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He rose from the bacta tank that morning with his mind clear. He didn’t want to break any mirrors. For the first time in years, he didn’t want to break anything. He had spent the past days away from his flagship and away from the suffocating incompetence of those employed by the Empire. Padme was alive. He was... mostly alive. There was little point in continuing the charade.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But since their return to the castle, Padme was content to pretend he didn’t exist. She made no demands, offered no negotiations, and behaved like the perfect, respectful house guest.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was </span>
  <em>
    <span>infuriating.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was insistent that she must have fallen ill. He demanded the droid check her temperature and prepare the proper medical care, but B2 insisted she was fine. She just </span>
  <em>
    <span>laid there</span>
  </em>
  <span> all day. Like she was content to simply exist and wait for something to happen.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After deciding on his course of action, Vader instructed the medical droid to bring him his manual mouthpiece, and the server droids to bring him a mirror. Like a fool, he told the droid he wouldn’t be needing his helmet that day.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The mirror in the castle sat in the corner since he arrived, so out of use that it collected dust in it’s corners. He and the droids had no use for a mirror. They didn’t need to see their own robotic limbs. Who would want to be reminded that all that stood between them and certain death was a cut wire? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But the return of Padme had him feeling like...</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Like he was someone he wasn’t. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The man who married Padme was a distant memory, the memory of someone else. A memory that he successfully squandered underneath his boots. That man was </span>
  <em>
    <span>dead</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Darth Vader accepted his death long ago.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And now the return and improbable survival of Padme dredged it all back up. Darth Vader slipped into his bacta every night, and fell into a dreamless unconscious that probably couldn’t even be constituted as sleep. Just a necessary precaution to take against dying. Darth Vader did not </span>
  <em>
    <span>sleep</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and he certainly didn’t dream. Dreams were for the weak. Dreams served only to make the impossible seem like something that was within your reach, they served only to remind the waking of what they </span>
  <em>
    <span>don’t</span>
  </em>
  <span> have, and would never have again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It had been so long since Darth Vader had a dream that when one finally came, he presumed it was real. That the real dream was the past two years, two years of a never-ending nightmare that finally came to a close.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He opened his eyes and when the blue sky shined down on him, the colors sprang from the canvas of the world, so vibrantly bright, unfiltered by the harsh red glare of his mask. When he breathed, there was no sharpness against his chest, no scratch of a machine. Air, actual air, filled his chest and lungs, and he was finally </span>
  <em>
    <span>alive.</span>
  </em>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>The green field opened before him, and when he walked across it, it was his own legs walking for him. There was dirt and soil and grass beneath his feet and he could feel every speck beneath him, softening beneath his stride, and he didn’t feel the need to rip it all out by the roots. He was unfettered, unburdened, and free.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The entire planet pulsed around him. He could feel the life of every person on Naboo, from the meadow, to Theed, to Gungan City, feel the air that breathed through their lungs, feel the twitch of their limbs and the smiles across their faces. He breathed and let them all go on, let the Force gently pass through him as he made no demands of it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Over the rolling hills, a figure shined against the backdrop. Padme stood on the peak of the hill, just far enough that she couldn’t tell he was staring. Her dress was golden, but it was her skin that shone in the sunlight, her smile that burned brighter than the light of a million suns. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Padme stood at the apex of the hill and smiled down at him, and all that talk he never believed in, the teaching of the Jedi, finding peace and balance... for one solid moment, all he felt was total serenity, and it was the most powerful he’d ever been. More powerful than a War General, more powerful than the blade of a lightsaber, more powerful than fingers choking an airway. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Laughter filled the field, a wild, unrelenting, and carefree shrieking laughter, as two more figures joined at the tip of the hill. Standing barely  higher than Padme’s hip was a girl with dark brown hair rolled into two buns that covered her head like earmuffs. On Padme’s other side was a boy with blonde hair and a goofy grin when he looked down the hill.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Daddy!” The boy screamed and ran, the girl chasing on his heels. Though he stood taller, she tackled him to the ground and they rolled down the hill like logs, until they landed at his feet.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The girl jumped up, her buns now askew with blades of grass sticking out, and a big toothy grin. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hi Daddy,” she lifted her hands, and he lifted her into his arms.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hi Leia,” he said, without knowing how he knew that name, and marveling at his voice that wasn’t filtered through a modulator, but was soft while he held his daughter against him. The boy grinned up at him, his clothes covered in grass stains, and his face matching his sister’s smile. When he smiled, he lit up exactly like his mother.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Luke,” he said, and ruffled his hand through the blonde hair, while Padme bounded down the hill, chastising them for log-rolling instead of walking, but a laugh still lined her features.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Padme lifted Luke high into the air, bouncing him up and down, throwing the boy into a fit of giggles. When she finally held him, Luke looked at his father.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Daddy, Uncle Obi is almost here, and he says we can have ice cream for dinner.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Obi-Wan</span>
  </em>
  <span>. The name reminded him of a familiar rage, a rage that he didn’t even care to touch, and was gone with a wisp of wind. Rather, his heart was full when he thought of the crinkled smile of his master. Of his son calling him </span>
  <em>
    <span>Uncle Obi</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Padme raised her eyebrows at him, with a small smile that she hid from Luke and Leia, a smile that said she also wanted ice cream for dinner. “Ahsoka’s coming too, and she promised cartons of ice cream.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ahsoka?” His voice choked on her name. “Ahsoka’s coming here? She’s okay?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Padme furrowed her brow, and put her free arm around him, and he put his free arm around her, and they were an entire family holding each other on the fields of Naboo, and he couldn’t imagine ever feeling sad again if </span>
  <em>
    <span>this</span>
  </em>
  <span> was his life, if he was actually lucky enough to exist like this every day. The Chosen One, indeed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course she’s coming. Ahsoka would never miss the twin’s FIFTH BIRTHDAY!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luke and Leia giggled and held onto them and each other, before jumping down and running through the fields once again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Padme traced the curve of his shoulder with her fingertips and stared up at him, her brown eyes like honey in the sunlight.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Didn’t I tell you? It’s never too late, Ani.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Ani.</span>
  </em>
  <span> The word echoed around in his mind until it was nothing more than a distant whisper of the past, a memory that belonged to someone else. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The world blurred around Darth Vader when he opened his eyes, and that distant whisper hung in the back of his mind, lingered at his ears, imprinting itself in his brain until he almost felt like that person again. The person who was so close, merely a breath away from that life with Padme, until he destroyed it all with one bend of the knee.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But what had she said in his dream? His dream that wasn’t a dream, so real, it was more like a vision from the Force. A message. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s never too late.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He lifted from the bacta tank, and sent for the server droids. The distant echo of Padme’s voice lingered in his ears, of her smile that lit up the fields of Naboo, and he believed everything would be okay. She stood on Mustafar and told him it wasn’t too late, and it still wasn’t too late, they were in love and he could make her understand...</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The medical droid brought him the mouthpiece and he strapped it on, going through a rote list of planets in his head that they could escape to after he explained. Somewhere that was safe, maybe heavily shrouded so the Emperor couldn’t sense him. He thought of the life he could have with Padme. Of the tall, dark-haired Jedi with blue eyes and tan skin, the Jedi that Padme loved. Darth Vader’s rampaging was nothing next to that passion.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The droid B2 and her squirrely assistant RJ came into the medcenter carrying the one lone mirror in the castle, bickering amongst themselves while they precariously attempted to balance the glass on it’s legs. Vader sighed at the commotion, and the droids finally propped the mirror up on the floor, their metal faces practically glowing with pride at completing a simple task.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Will you be joining us for dinner, Dark Lord?” B2 insisted on calling him Dark Lord. He thought it a mock at first, but she always said it was the appropriate level of fear and deference. “Perhaps the mistress can join us as well...” The droid trailed off, almost suggestively. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I,” Darth Vader started, when he caught a glimpse of the mirror.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was only 25 years old, but with two years of nightly bacta, burn scars that never properly healed, and skin that hadn’t seen any sun, he looked double his age. Pale, pasty skin gave way to pink mottled flesh. Scars made of lava streaked over the soft head that once housed thick and wavy hair, the color of chestnuts. He had not yet slipped on his gloves, and the wiring of his hands stuck out, reminding him of exactly how </span>
  <em>
    <span>non-human</span>
  </em>
  <span> he was, he was no more than the droids that stood beside him. Only useful until someone built a better machine.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The mask that breathed for him covered the mouth that he knew was lipless, and the cheeks ravaged by scars. The bulky black box that kept him alive sat pathetically on his chest, protruding from the very place where Padme liked to run her fingers. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His breath steadied and his gaze flicked up to the only human part of him that survived; his eyes. His eyes that housed rage that could never be attributed to a mere machine, a rage strong and wild enough to level entire planets with it’s powerful fury. And for the shadow of a second, the Jedi stared back from his reflection, his chestnut hair and gleaming skin, his limbs intact and his eyes a peaceful blue. The Jedi who lived only in a fleeting vision.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A fleeting vision come to haunt him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A Jedi so naive that he had no business being alive, even in a dream. Darth Vader reached inside and with the fury of a burning star, he reached out with a hand and smashed the mirror into a million little pieces. The visage of the Jedi was gone and dead, exactly as he belonged.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He whipped around to the stunned droids.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Clean up this mess and then leave me be!” Darth Vader pushed the memory of his dream and his reflection deep into the depths of his chest, until they were buried under the black hole of his hatred. He snatched his suit from the counter and stomped to his chamber, before turning back to the droids, who hadn’t moved yet to pick up the mess. “If I am disturbed again this evening, one of you will be so slowly dismantled, you will BEG to be thrown into the lava!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>RJ and FX-6 scurried out of the room, while B2 never looked away from him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dark Lord?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?” He growled, deciding on which droid to slowly torture. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What about the mistress? I fear if she does not join us for dinner, she will refuse her meal again.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You tell her,” Darth Vader marched back across the room with one finger pointed directly in the droid's face. “You tell her that if she does not eat the meal, I will go to her chambers and force feed her myself!” His modulated voice carried across the West Sector, but B2 did not flinch away from him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Very well, Lord Vader.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Darth Vader only stood while the droid collected her cleaning materials, sputtering in place.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It would not be a pleasant meal for her!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m aware, Dark Lord.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With the droid single-mindedly focused on the glass, Vader slowly walked back to his chamber. He stepped inside, and removed his mask, shutting himself in while he stared back at the eyes of the machine.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you everyone for all the kind feedback, I love sharing my story with fellow Vader fans :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Six months later and I finally drop an update! Thank you to everyone who's been reading this and has read SATM! The kind comments mean a lot to me. I'm hoping it won't be such a long time before the next and final update of Vader's POV. Thank you everyone for your patience &lt;3</p>
<p>We are officially at the point with this fic where it will not make sense if you haven't read Supernova and the Machine! So if you haven't already, I recommend reading that one before reading this one :) This takes place between Chapters 7 and 8 of SATM, which are some of my favorite chapters of that fic, so I really enjoyed revisiting it.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The first time Darth Vader’s eyes burned yellow, before the lava, back when he still possessed a single flicker of hope, he could feel it. The burning. Like his irises were on fire before he ever was, the constant ravaging that burned all the way to his brain and through his head, the reminder of what he must do.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That feeling was new for months. Even after the suit, Vader would constantly squeeze his eyes, fighting the burn that haunted him from underneath his mask. He let it guide him. The pain from his eyes, the pain from his limbs, from his charred skin, it all fed his anger. And after he grew used to the pain, after the pain became second nature, the yellow eyes staring back at him in the privacy of his compression chamber brought that fire back. The millennia’s old Sith order was held together only by a pair of burning, shining yellow eyes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The fire never left him. It was a part of his life, a part that he had grown to like. Screaming pain was all that kept him alive. His only reminder that he was more than the voice that spoke for him. Pain was no longer separable from him; he was the living embodiment of pain.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Darth Vader spent his life storming across Star Destroyers, the ever-present sound of his breathing always keeping him in the moment, the pain in his remaining limbs never yielding him even one moment of temporary respite. It was easy to forget that there was still... peace. That such a thing was even possible. There were places in the galaxy of utter stillness. A place where his heartbeat would slow, where, even if for only one moment, his mind would stop. He could just...</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Be.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Staring out into the bursting teals and pinks, the brightly burning star as it exploded across the viewport, the piercing arrow of light slicing through it all, Darth Vader could only describe it in one word: quiet.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He couldn’t hear the scratched breathing of his mouthpiece, or feel his mechanical fingers twitch at the nearness of Padme, he couldn’t hear his own heart beating in his ears through his helmet. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And he allowed himself one moment of pure audacity, a moment where he turned away from the galaxy and looked at Padme. She had only moved her room a day earlier, but it was like she came back to life. She was no longer the sad rebel Naberrie, her eyes sparkled, her face wasn’t sallow, she looked like she might even want to be alive for one moment longer, if only to see the stars. And it was in the one moment of pure audacity, that he realized...</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His eyes were no longer burning. Pain was so merged with his life, that he only recognized it’s absence; his head was lighter, his jaw was unclenched, his forehead relaxed, and the fiery yellow of his eyes finally relented after two long years.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I am pleased...” He took a deep breath. He was careful to speak as few words to Padme as possible, all precisely chosen, lest his mechanical voice frighten her, the way it was designed to. “That you enjoy your new room.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A ghost of a smile crossed her face, and her body barely twitched closer to him. “Before I arrived, did you ever come here? To look at the stars?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He paused and answered honestly. “No.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He had set up the contraption - he wasn’t even sure why. To remind him that there was a world outside of Mustafar? To remind him that the world was bigger than the Empire or Sheev Palpatine? Maybe he set it up hoping for one solitary moment of sweet clarity, a moment when he didn’t feel like his entire life was a waste, that he was born and breathed and lived and loved only to one day become a walking tool of Darth Sidious. That the Force wasn’t inside him only to make him a weapon. A moment that would tell him it would be okay. There was still a purpose.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That fleeting hope died, and at the end of it, he was just a sad man with a heart that couldn’t beat on it’s own, living on the planet where he died, staring out at all the vast</span>
  <em>
    <span> nothing</span>
  </em>
  <span> the world had to offer.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When he looked out at the galaxy with Padme, all of that nothing turned into boundless </span>
  <em>
    <span>anything</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Padme lifted a hand, like she meant to touch his mask where his burned off cheek might have been. She pulled away at the last moment, obviously thinking better of it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why not?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Why not?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Because the bright hopeful shine only reminded me of the tears in your eyes when you asked the fool Anakin Skywalker to run away with you.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Because I don’t deserve it.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Because all the stars in the fucking galaxy could not replace you.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He turned away from her and looked back at the viewport, because despite all the galaxy’s fear, Darth Vader was nothing but a coward. A trembling idiot who would fall to his knees at the behest of Padme Amidala who called herself Naberrie.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But he let the moment linger. He existed too long in her space, and she spoke again, her voice soft but not weak, her chin trembling, and eyes shining just like they did on Mustafar two years earlier.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why am I here?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The space between them thickened, and Darth Vader whipped around, thankful for the mask to cover the sting in the corners of his eyes, and let his cape whip around his body so he wouldn’t be tempted to look back. He left Padme alone with the stars.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ever the coward.</span>
</p>
<p> </p><hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Dark Lord?” The helmet was not past his burned off ears before the insufferable droid B2 called for him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He fastened the mask back on, careful that his modulator would hide the catch in his throat.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What is it?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Lord Sidious called twice tonight, sir.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His hands hung still in the air, shaking almost imperceptibly under the thick black gloves. He had taken great care since Padme arrived to keep the droids away from his communication devices, and he’d allowed himself too much. Too much time with Padme, too much peace, too much fantasy.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>If that droid told Darth Sidious about Padme, his only fantasy would be all the ways in which he could dismantle it. He’d go wire by wire, he’d take his time, just for the occasion of torturing the droid that gave away Padme’s secret.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And what did you tell him?” He kept his voice low, every syllable dripping with a threat.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I told him you were injured sir, and were to remain in bacta until FX-6 deemed it safe to pull you out.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Darth Vader lifted his chin and studied the droid B2. A simple server droid, with no particular talent, a bit of a personality but not as eccentric as the protocol droid built by a slave on Tatooine, nowhere near as brave as the astromech that fought at Skywalker’s side. An unremarkable machine. An unremarkable machine that went against it’s programming and lied to the Emperor of the galaxy, in order to protect Padme.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Because B2 knew that if the Emperor ever found out what was happening in this castle... If he ever took it upon himself to lift his ass out of his chair and come to Mustafar...</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good. Connect to him again. I will take the call alone... And have one of the other droids prepare an oil bath for you tonight.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, Dark Lord.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>While his comm connected to the one in Emperor Palpatine’s private chambers, Vader gathered up his cape and took a knee, projecting himself across the galaxy as a servant. A machine to be used to the Emperor’s will. A slave.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Lord Vader.” The shaky voice grated on Vader’s every nerve and he kept his head down. “Where have you been?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mustafar.” He answered slowly, never looking back up at the holo. The Emperor knew exactly where he was. Vader had no idea what kind of farce this was, but he feared his patience would not last the interrogation. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You may be feared throughout the galaxy, Lord Vader, but you are still my apprentice, and sworn to the order of the Sith. Or have you forgotten?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course not, my Master.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t forget, Lord Vader, I can feel your every thought. Your every move, your every intention. Everything about you is open to me, free for the taking. When you bent your knee to me and I named you Lord Vader, you became mine. So think carefully before you answer again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you have a prisoner in the castle?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The silence between them could’ve lasted an eternity while Vader practiced a shield in his mind, forcing away every image of Padme that Darth Sidious could use.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Really, Lord Vader?” He swallowed, the sound permeating throughout his suit, so loud he was sure his Master could hear it. “Perhaps a prisoner of great importance to you? A prisoner that you don’t want me to know about?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“My Master -”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you attempt to FOOL ME, Lord Vader?!</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know that you took a prisoner off the ship, a prisoner that looks suspiciously like the traitorous Senator Amidala, the forbidden wife of Skywalker, and I know that you haven’t been heard from since!</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vader tried to conjure up the face of the prison ship commander, the man who would be the subject of his wrath. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So answer me again.” He spit out every word. “Do you have a prisoner in the castle?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vader leapt to his feet, his desperate fury igniting the courage to look directly at his Master that he swore his life to, and lie.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I do not keep prisoners at Fortress Vader.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You are a liar and a traitor. You know what I do with traitors, Lord Vader.” Yes, yes he knew very well. Sometimes, when he was alone, he could still feel the electric lightning as it ran through his body like blood. Every failure, every hesitation, every bit of cowardice that he allowed to slip through his carefully fortified walls was met with the strike of lightning, every hit like he was back on the field of lava while his flesh burned.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His suit was designed to be a rod, a beacon for the Sith lightning that his Master favored. He practiced over and over, and it was no use. He would have needed fingers to produce lightning of his own.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You will have to prove yourself worthy to continue as my apprentice. A challenger is coming to Mustafar. Prove that you are still worth the bolts that hold you together.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vader didn’t flinch at the insult; his Master had been reducing him to nothing more than bolts since he got his suit. “A challenger?” Vader had been given challengers before. Darth Sidious liked to test Vader’s loyalty, to make sure his apprentice was still the strongest. If he were to be beaten by a challenger, he would no longer be worthy of the place at his Master’s side. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He defeated every challenger handily.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, Lord Vader. You so easily forget that the spot by my side is coveted. It is not to be taken lightly.If you lose, I’ve instructed the challenger to take the valuable parts of your body and dump the rest in the lava. If you defeat the challenger, I’ll expect to see you back at Imperial Center. It seems you still have a lot to learn about loyalty.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He did not wish to leave Padme alone, but if he didn’t go to the Imperial Center eventually, Palpatine would come here. She’d have to be locked in her room when he left. He nodded his head in deference, and moved to shut off the comm when Darth Sidious spoke again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And Vader... the challenger knows about your little visitor as well.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The familiar burning in his irises returned, the anger like a blanket that wrapped him up and protected him. His eyes burned hotter than his heart, the threat to Padme’s life lighting him on fire. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, I can feel your anger. Even from here, the fire that rages inside you. A fire that’s dulled considerably. That fire ravaged the Jedi Order, and I was sure would be strong enough to light the Sith for a generation. But you only cared to save Skywalker’s wife.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Master, I have no - ”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“She does not love you, you know. She loved Anakin Skywalker.” Sidious hissed the name, like he always did, and looked Vader up and down, disgust clear on his face. “How could you ever hope for her to love </span>
  <em>
    <span>you?</span>
  </em>
  <span> You’re no more than a heap of scrap metal that </span>
  <em>
    <span>I</span>
  </em>
  <span> restored for the singular purpose of fighting for my Empire. A machine. </span>
  <em>
    <span>My </span>
  </em>
  <span>machine. She couldn’t love you anymore than she could love a toaster.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I will defeat your challenger.” The fire in Vader’s chest dulled, and was replaced with a calm certainty. A knowledge of what it was he had to do. He’d let Padme go, send her somewhere safe, and then... “And then I will come to the Imperial Center.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Very well.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And let me ask you this, Lord Vader: Do you really think you are enough to keep her safe from me? You weren’t enough to save her as Anakin Skywalker, and you don’t possess half of his power. You are nothing without me - a failed Jedi left to burn to death by his own Master, incapable of saving his wife. I created you, and I can destroy you just as well. And now that you’ve been foolish enough to bring her to Mustafar... I will destroy her too.”</span>
</p>
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